At Mumbai international airport I nearly dropped dead at the bookstore. The shelves were filled with Indians writing English novels. So intimidated was I, that I nearly fainted.
What were all these Indians doing writing English novels? And who was publishing them? And who would read my first (Booker-winning, no less) book if there was such a crowd out there? Indians were not supposed to be so prolific about writing in English. And publishers were only supposed to pick those that had genius potential (ahem!). I did not buy any of these new writers. I just turned and ran.
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1 comment:
Looks like someone missed the bus. And the boat. And the plane. :-)
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